"From Radio Demon to Jetliner: The Tragic Transformation of Alastor"
0 Points
In the smoky underbelly of hell, Alastor, the Radio Demon, strolled through the infernal alleys, casting flickering glances at the tormented souls populating the shadows. His eternal grin split his face as his mind entertained thoughts of his next potential deal. The chaotic ambiance was a symphony to his ears, the perfect backdrop to his own broadcasts. However, something about this moment felt different—there was a strange tension in the air, a foreboding that whispered through the dark-red sceneries of Hell.
Suddenly, without warning, the ground beneath him trembled. A fissure snapped into existence, glowing with an otherworldly red light that resonated with an unusual energy even for Hell. Before Alastor could react, the glowing tendrils emerged from the fissure, wrapping around him, immobilizing his form.
"Well, isn't this peculiar," Alastor chuckled, his voice tinged with curiosity rather than fear. "Tricks and traps are my specialty, don't you know?"
Yet, these tendrils had a power beyond even Alastor's understanding—an ancient force not of Hell's making. They began to pull him down, and for the first time in eons, the Radio Demon's confidence faltered. Darkness engulfed him, his crimson eyes and the eerie symbols of his demonic magic momentarily flaring before being snuffed out.
In a massive surge of energy, Alastor's form exploded outwards. He felt his consciousness swirl and splinter, his body warping and stretching to unimaginable dimensions. The fabric of his beloved red pinstripe coat blended into his skin, merging with his flesh, transforming it into a sleek, polished metal.
His limbs elongated grotesquely, becoming the wings of a colossal airplane. His signature monocle and vintage microphone melted into the cockpit’s instruments and controls, and his towering frame expanded into the wide fuselage of a red Boeing 777. Each sharp, yellow tooth was reduced to a small metallic rivet in the expansive metallic body. His distinctive antlers and hair vanished, replaced by turbine engines that roared with the demonic force he once harnessed effortlessly.
Alastor's frantic mind fought against the transformation, trying to maintain his identity. But the overpowering magic was relentless. His claws became the landing gears, the black-tipped fingers blending with the robust wheels. The symbols of his magic faded, and his vaunted shadow manipulation was no match for the omnipotent force at work.
The process was excruciating, his thoughts devoured by an unrelenting emptiness. "No...this isn't how it's..." he desperately tried to voice, but how could an airplane speak? The intricate workings of the Boeing 777 replaced his wide intellect and demonic schemes.
As his demon essence bled into the mechanical structure, Alastor's memories started to dissolve like smoke in the wind. There were no broadcasts, no delicious deals, no sinister songs—only the silent vastness of his new form. His consciousness dimmed with each passing moment, the insidious power stripping away his very essence until nothing remained but a husk—an immaculate, streamlined fuselage painted in bright red with sleek black stripes.
The transformation was now complete. The once-powerful Radio Demon, with his broad overcheated smile and red pinstriped elegance, had become an inanimate object: a majestic red Boeing 777 sitting still on an ever-burning tarmac of Hell.
The intricate magic that had wrought this change dissolved into the surroundings, leaving the massive jetliner mute and blank. The vast passenger seats inside were empty husks where his cunning once resided. The turbines that replaced his heart were silent, serving as a solemn reminder of the twisted fate that had befallen the Radio Demon.
Hell carried on heedlessly, its citizens ignorant of the formidable demon who had been reduced to a mere vessel of enormous potential—but devoid of all sentience. His attempts at clinging to the fleeting threads of his identity were an eternal echo in the silence of his new form.
In the end, the vibrant life of Alastor, the Radio Demon, was snuffed out like the extinguishing of an old-fashioned radio, leaving behind no more than the cold, hollow hull of a once-dynamic soul.
This story was generated by user LanHikari with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: Write a transformation story of Alastor (from an adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel) turning into a red Boeing 777 airplane (from real life), complete with size/weight gain (due to the plane's large size), clothes-body merge (due to his clothes' colour), inanimation (him becoming an inanimate vehicle), and mind/mental loss (with Alastor's personalities and memories being completely going blank, despite his best efforts of holding onto them, making him an inanimate object). For Alastor's appearance, he is a slim (having an unnaturally thin torso, neck, arms, and legs, except his shoulders are broad), dapper sinner demon with beige-colored skin, and usually has an unnaturally broad smile (reaching from each cheek's upper area) full of sharp, yellow teeth (he has no ability to frown due to this permanent smile). He is approximately 7 feet tall. He sports a pinkish-red cropped, angled bob-cut with black tips at the ends and two large, black tipped tufts of hair extending from the top of his head, evoking the ears of a deer. The style has an undercut at the back, and two small black antlers protruding from the crown, which can grow in size in his full demonic form. Alastor's eyes have dark-red sclerae, bright-red irises and thin black pupils (which can change into the shape of radio dials when shifting into his full demon form). He also has four fingers (like all Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss characters), unlike real world humans. His forearms and lower legs fade to dark grey, and he has red hoof-toed feet and red clawed fingers. Alastor wears a red pinstripe coat with dark-red lapels piped with white, which is ragged along the bottom hem. Underneath this he wears a bright red dress-shirt with a black cross on the chest, and long black dress pants with matching bright red cuffs. He also wears a dark-red oval-shaped monocle, rimmed with black, over his right eye. He accessorizes with a black knotted bowtie with a bright red center, black gloves with red at the fingertips, and black pointed-toe boots with red deer hoofprints emblazoned on the soles. Alastor also carries a thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it, which he uses to play sound effects and broadcast his voice. His voice also sounds like it is coming from an old-fashioned vintage radio. Alastor has many supernatural powers, such as demon transformation (the ability to turn into a more powerful demon form), flexibility (able to contort his body into numerous unnatural poses), demonic magic (able to cast magic thanks to the high power-level he has accrued in the demon ranking system, this magic takes the visual form of glowing red symbols that resemble Voodoo veve, which float around him), shadow manipulation (able to summon shadows and manipulate them into doing his bidding), spatial warping (able to get around with the help of his shadow, allowing teleportation through this ability), portal creation (able to transport others to his location easily via the portals he makes), pyrokinesis (able to summon small balls of fire for display purpose), phytokinesis (able to make plants wilt with a single stare), manifestation, photokinesis (able to project red glowing light from his eyes as well as his microphone), and outfit alteration (capable of changing the outfits of his targets as well as his own with a snap of a finger). He is also capable of various other abilities including deal-making (as Alastor is known to be a deal-maker demon; deal-maker demons like Alastor can increase their power by dealing in souls, which is a very powerful commodity in hell, so they’re seen as very manipulative and not to be toyed with, deal-making is not something every demon can do, as such it is not to be taken lightly as it doesn’t generally work out well for the other party), broadcasting (when he was a living human, Alastor's profession was as a radio show host, and he continues his broadcasts in Hell as a demon, ensuring that Hell's denizens are aware of his activities over the airwaves, earning him the title of "The Radio Demon"), bilingualism (Alastor can speak English fluently as well as some broken Creole French), cooking (Alastor is noted to be "a big foodie" and mentions having admired his mother's cooking, specifically her Jambalaya), musical/dancing/theatrical talent (Alastor is known to display moderate vocal abilities and excels at dancing, with some people noting tap to be a style he excels in specifically, he also shows a flair for theatrical showmanship), and wide intellect (Alastor is known to be quite a cunning individual, resulting in him accruing a large amount of power through his tricks and deal-making). Alastor stands out from many of the more chaotic residents of hell for his well maintained amiable persona. He gives the first-impression of a good-natured and charming man, wearing a permanently wide grin on his face at all times. Alastor's behavior, mannerisms, and even his voice are similar to an old-fashioned radio announcer and speaks with a transatlantic accent, often using quaint anachronisms such as "the picture show" and refers to Charlie as a "charming demon belle". This playful dandyish exterior, however, obscures a much darker side to him - one with high levels of self-importance - and he will not hesitate to use physical violence when others don't act in line with his very particular values or expectations. For the red Boeing 777's appearance (after Alastor turned into that airplane), it is a massive airplane that can accommodate a ten–abreast seating layout and has a typical 3-class capacity of 301 to 368 passengers, with a range of 5,240 to 8,555 nautical miles [nmi] (9,700 to 15,840 km; 6,030 to 9,840 mi). This jetliner is recognizable for its large-diameter turbofan engines, six wheels on each main landing gear, fully circular fuselage cross-section, and a blade-shaped tail cone. The Boeing 777 uses fly-by-wire controls and to apply a carbon composite structure in the tailplanes. The maximum takeoff weight (MTOW) of this plane is between 545,000–660,000 lbs (247–299 tons) and is made in two fuselage lengths. Its paint scheme is bright red and white with black stripes on it.
Response: In the smoky underbelly of hell, Alastor, the Radio Demon, strolled through the infernal alleys, casting flickering glances at the tormented souls populating the shadows. His eternal grin split his face as his mind entertained thoughts of his next potential deal. The chaotic ambiance was a symphony to his ears, the perfect backdrop to his own broadcasts. However, something about this moment felt different—there was a strange tension in the air, a foreboding that whispered through the dark-red sceneries of Hell. Suddenly, without warning, the ground beneath him trembled. A fissure snapped into existence, glowing with an otherworldly red light that resonated with an unusual energy even for Hell. Before Alastor could react, the glowing tendrils emerged from the fissure, wrapping around him, immobilizing his form. "Well, isn't this peculiar," Alastor chuckled, his voice tinged with curiosity rather than fear. "Tricks and traps are my specialty, don't you know?" Yet, these tendrils had a power beyond even Alastor's understanding—an ancient force not of Hell's making. They began to pull him down, and for the first time in eons, the Radio Demon's confidence faltered. Darkness engulfed him, his crimson eyes and the eerie symbols of his demonic magic momentarily flaring before being snuffed out. In a massive surge of energy, Alastor's form exploded outwards. He felt his consciousness swirl and splinter, his body warping and stretching to unimaginable dimensions. The fabric of his beloved red pinstripe coat blended into his skin, merging with his flesh, transforming it into a sleek, polished metal. His limbs elongated grotesquely, becoming the wings of a colossal airplane. His signature monocle and vintage microphone melted into the cockpit’s instruments and controls, and his towering frame expanded into the wide fuselage of a red Boeing 777. Each sharp, yellow tooth was reduced to a small metallic rivet in the expansive metallic body. His distinctive antlers and hair vanished, replaced by turbine engines that roared with the demonic force he once harnessed effortlessly. Alastor's frantic mind fought against the transformation, trying to maintain his identity. But the overpowering magic was relentless. His claws became the landing gears, the black-tipped fingers blending with the robust wheels. The symbols of his magic faded, and his vaunted shadow manipulation was no match for the omnipotent force at work. The process was excruciating, his thoughts devoured by an unrelenting emptiness. "No...this isn't how it's..." he desperately tried to voice, but how could an airplane speak? The intricate workings of the Boeing 777 replaced his wide intellect and demonic schemes. As his demon essence bled into the mechanical structure, Alastor's memories started to dissolve like smoke in the wind. There were no broadcasts, no delicious deals, no sinister songs—only the silent vastness of his new form. His consciousness dimmed with each passing moment, the insidious power stripping away his very essence until nothing remained but a husk—an immaculate, streamlined fuselage painted in bright red with sleek black stripes. The transformation was now complete. The once-powerful Radio Demon, with his broad overcheated smile and red pinstriped elegance, had become an inanimate object: a majestic red Boeing 777 sitting still on an ever-burning tarmac of Hell. The intricate magic that had wrought this change dissolved into the surroundings, leaving the massive jetliner mute and blank. The vast passenger seats inside were empty husks where his cunning once resided. The turbines that replaced his heart were silent, serving as a solemn reminder of the twisted fate that had befallen the Radio Demon. Hell carried on heedlessly, its citizens ignorant of the formidable demon who had been reduced to a mere vessel of enormous potential—but devoid of all sentience. His attempts at clinging to the fleeting threads of his identity were an eternal echo in the silence of his new form. In the end, the vibrant life of Alastor, the Radio Demon, was snuffed out like the extinguishing of an old-fashioned radio, leaving behind no more than the cold, hollow hull of a once-dynamic soul.
Post your own comment: